


to anyone who's listening

by dutchydoescoke



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 07:51:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6648721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchydoescoke/pseuds/dutchydoescoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie can't sleep. Ichabod doesn't know that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to anyone who's listening

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on tumblr: "things you said when you thought i was asleep". This was supposed to be a mini fic and I failed at brevity. Tag for episode ten of season three, "Incident At Stone Manor".
> 
> I'll write more of the Star Wars fic soon, I just got a little sidetracked by life and Sleepy Hollow.
> 
> Title ganked wholesale from [David Cook's "Declaration"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QONB0dJEHfk).

Abbie’s been laying in bed for almost three hours now, but sleep isn’t coming. She’d have thought, after being awake for ten months and escaping that hell, that she’d be more exhausted. She’s wired, more than anything, despite keeping her eyes firmly closed and refusing to move.

(Her bed’s too soft, now. She’s tempted to try sleeping on the floor.)

She hears footsteps in the hallway again. Ichabod’s been finding excuses, more and more, to stick around her. When she’d finally decided to try and sleep, he’d quietly poke his head into her room every so often. From what Sophie and Jenny had said, he’d been a mess during their separation. Sophie said he’d even accidentally released a demon because he’d been so desperate to find her.

So, really, she won’t fault him for checking on her. She isn’t going to let him know she’s still awake, though, because she’s had enough of his “sleep aid” blend of tea to last a lifetime.

So when he pokes his head in, she keeps her eyes closed, her breathing even, and doesn’t move, figuring that he’ll see she’s asleep and leave. Instead, he carefully, quietly, sneaks in. He’s taken his boots off, because she can’t hear his footsteps beyond the occasional creak. When he sits, she nearly startles, almost giving away that she’s awake, but restraint wins out. She’s curious.

“I’m sorry, lieutenant, for my lie of omission, earlier. I’m still unsure as to how to handle this.” He’s quiet enough that she has to strain to hear him. For someone apparently set on confessing something to her when she’s asleep, he’s good at keeping himself from waking her up. “I feel almost like a traitor, in a way. I’ve been trying to ignore things for what actually qualifies as years, now. You’ve been nothing but wonderful, offering all you can give, and I’ve been nothing but selfish, always wanting more.”

He pauses and sighs, like he’s about to do something extremely difficult, and Abbie finds herself worried, a little, about what he’s going to say.

“I was supposed to love Katrina forever, though I realize, in hindsight, that perhaps that was as much a… I believe the modern term is ‘rebound’? Either way, I can’t even fault her for taking issue with me, when I had already strayed emotionally.”

She’s glad he’s in his own little world while he talks, because that makes her stiffen, because surely, he can’t be going there with this. Not now, at least. Not when she’s in no position to deal with this.

“I seem to have, for better or for worse, fallen for you, as it were. I won’t ask for anything, because I have no room to make requests like that of you. You give me so much as it is, I can’t ruin what we have by asking for more. I was dealt excellent cards with you, and I won’t gamble with that like this. But I do love you, Abbie, and I’m so sorry for not finding you sooner.”

He gets up and leaves, after that, but she barely notices, too busy reeling from what he’d said. She’d come to terms, months ago, when she faced the possibility of never escaping the catacombs, with the fact that their bond meant more, but she’d dealt with that, put it in a box, and ignored it until it grew dust and cobwebs.

Goddamn Ichabod and his tendency to clean her things when she wasn’t looking.


End file.
